


My mirror, my sword, my shield

by BlackKoshka23, Costakostya



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Kostya Bocharov, melovin - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, F/M, Forbidden Love, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-07-11 11:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15971204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackKoshka23/pseuds/BlackKoshka23, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Costakostya/pseuds/Costakostya
Summary: Prince Kostya Bocharov is the new hope for Ukraine. Lieutenant Voronenko has just been awarded the Medal of Bravery. Their paths would cross and intertwine in a way their decisions would affect the entire country.(Thanks to my lovely editor, Anne (Costakostya), I owe you big time with this one).





	1. Medal of Bravery

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked for a Prince!Kostya AU? No? Here you have it anyways.

—Good morning, Your Highness! It's time to get up!—the maid sang, opening the curtains.  
Kostya rolled over in bed, growling. The light blue walls of the room reflected the light, making it impossible for him to keep his eyes closed for longer.  
—What time is it? —he asked.  
—Half past eight, Your Highness—the woman replied.  
—Ugh. Why do I have to get up so early? —he growled.  
He had been awake until after midnight, working on a score. He knew he was going to pay for it in the morning, but he did not expect he would regret it this much.  
—There are obligations that cannot be postponed. Besides, it's not that early, I've been awake since half-past six!—she replied.  
—Okay, I’ll get up.  
Kostya sat up, pushing the bedclothes aside.  
—Oh, my God, Your Highness, you must stop doing that! —the maid cried, turning around— My poor heart will not be able to bear these shocks much more often —she added, taking one hand to the chest theatrically.  
Kostya realized at that moment that he had forgotten to put on his pyjamas again and was in his underpants. Amused, he went to the rack next to the dressing room door and put on his robe.  
—Was that an order, Olga? —he asked, feigning seriousness.  
—No, Your Highness! I would never dare! —the woman said—. Anyway, why don’t you wear your pyjamas?  
—I like to feel the caress of the sheets on the skin—Kostya replied, shrugging—. You can turn around, Olga, I'm presentable.  
The maid turned around, still breathing hard. Olga was about fifty years old, just a few more than Kostya’s own mother, and she had a very motherly appearance. She had cared for him since he was ten, and was almost like a second mother to him. She was the only servant who called the prince by his first name.  
—I had the bathtub readied for you and your clothes are laid out in the dressing room. Remember that you have to have breakfast with the Queen today and then attend the Army ceremony.  
—Yes, Olga—Kostya replied, kissing her on the cheek. She smiled—. What would I do without you?  
—Honestly, Your Highness, I don’t know —she replied, amused—. And now hurry up, your mother waits for you and as you know, she does not appreciate to be kept waiting.  
Olga left him alone. While bathing, shaving and dressing, Kostya could not stop thinking about what he had been dreaming of just before he had been woken up.  
In the dream, there was a woman laying on this bed, her back covered in irregular lines. In the dim light, the lines had lit up like a Christmas tree strung with blue lights. He hadn’t been able to see her face, only her back, but he knew she had light brown hair, slightly wavy, and a beautiful rear.  
—Shit.  
He sat on the bed, taking deep breaths to relax, shrugged and stretched his toes. After a couple of minutes, the trick worked and his erection disappeared; a prince could not show himself that way in public. He should not think again about the woman in his dream.  
He had breakfast with his mother, with whom he had to attend the presentation of army medals in the Ministry of Defense. Normally, that sort of thing was taken care of by his father, but the King was touring Europe, showing the new Ukraine to the world.  
Had it been a normal day, Kostya wouldn’t have had been present at the the ceremony, but his second year at university studying Political Science had just ended and his mother had insisted. The building of the Ministry of Defense was a fairly new one, from the fifties, built in a style called Slav brutalism, which combined some tradition with much modernity. Or at least, it had been modern by the time it had been built.  
One of the generals of the Army received the pair of them in an office attached to the assembly hall. While the old soldier was talking to his mother, Kostya, curious, peeked through the window of the door into the auditorium. There were many soldiers there, most of them high commanders in their dress uniforms, but also some officers of lower ranks. One group in particular stayed on the side of the stage, and they were whispering nervously among themselves. He supposed those were the ones who were going to receive the medals.  
—Come on, Kostyantyn.  
—Yes, mother.  
Guided by the general, they sat in the seats that had been reserved for them and shortly after, the ceremony began. The medals were given in order: first the Army, then the Navy, the Air Force, and finally, the Magic Division. Each medal was announced by the corresponding general and delivered to the soldier by his commanding officer. The last one to receive a medal was a woman.  
—To Lieutenant Nadezhda Nikolayevna Voronenko, of Squadron 431, Brigade 13 of the Magic Division, for her brave act in shielding ten civilians from the impact of a grenade with a curse, we award her the Medal of Bravery.  
Nadezhda was very young, Kostya thought that she could not be much older than twenty-five years old, and she was not too tall. She moved steadily to the dais, where her commanding officer placed the medal on her uniform. She shook his hand and then the General’s hand. She smiled briefly at the audience, bowed and went to sit with the rest of the honorees. Kostya shuddered; her hair was the exact colour of the girl in his dream.  
After a final speech by the Queen, thanking all those present for what they did for their country, the meeting was moved to the floor below, where an informal reception awaited them, with cocktails and canapés.  
—Lieutenant Voronenko? —Kostya called. She turned around, blushing as she saw him, and bowed—. That is not necessary, really. It's me who should salute you.  
—I do not see why, Your Highness.  
—You just received a decoration of bravery —he replied. Absent-mindedly, she stroked the new medal of her uniform—. If it's not a lot of indiscretion, could you tell me exactly what happened?  
—Oh! It was half a year ago, we were on the border with Russia ... you know that after the war that area has been badly damaged —she began.  
—Yes, I know. Continue, please —said Kostya, interest clear in his voice.  
—Well, we were installing a portable water purifier in a town, when we received a notice that there was suspicious movement in the perimeter. I did not see where they came from, but only a few seconds after our Com told us...  
—Com? —Kostya repeated, confused.  
—Excuse me, Your Highness, it's a habit. We call the Telecom Operator Com —she explained.  
—I get it. Go on, please.  
—There were several children and teenagers watching as we installed the purifier in the fountain and suddenly the rebels were everywhere. My commanding officer shouted, "down! On the ground!" But I knew that the children would be too scared to react. I tried to take them to a safe place, but then I heard someone shouting "grenade!" near me. I had just enough time to raise the shield around the children and myself.  
—What happened later?  
—My shield was not powerful enough to deflect the entire curse and it hit me —she chuckled—. But at least I was able to protect the children and my commanding officer told me that none of them got hurt, not even slightly.  
—The curse hit you? —Kostya repeated, horrified.  
—Not the whole curse, but a big part. I woke up at the Veterans Hospital in Kiev a week later.  
—How can you talk jokingly about it?  
—My psychiatrist says that the best medicine is laughter, Your Highness. PTSD is already pretty fucked up... —Nadezhda covered her mouth when she realized she had said a bad word— Sorry! I didn’t want to... I didn’t want to be rude.  
—I think that after what has happened to you, you are allowed to use that kind of language —he replied, amused.  
—Not in front of a member of the Royal Family! —she said, shocked— I apologize, Your Highness.  
—It's forgiven. Do you have scars?  
—A few, yes. You should see my back, Your Highness, it lights up like a Christmas tree —she said jokingly.  
Like a Christmas tree ... there were already two coincidences. He swallowed.  
—That's... interesting —he said— Do you know why it happens?  
—Every curse leaves its traces, Your Highness —she replied, shrugging—. They usually react to the presence of another curse of the same type, but also to the emotions of the one who carries the mark.  
—Did you get hit by a murderous curse, Lieutenant?  
—No, Your Highness. That is a mistake civilians often make. You don’t put a murderous curse on a hand grenade, you put it on a landmine or a bomb in a terrorist attack, where the goal is to cause the highest number of civilian casualties possible—she said—. When it comes to grenades the goal is to make the person suffer, so they are destroyed, but they keep living. A life of pain is a worse punishment than death.  
A spark of blue light escaped through the neck of the lieutenant's jacket as her eyes darkened.  
—Is it, though? —Kostya asked.  
—From my experience, when you are a soldier, dying in combat is a gift in some cases.  
—Mother forbade me to do military service —said Kostya—. She was afraid that I would be exposed to war.  
—Understandable. You are the new hope of this country, Your Highness —she said, smiling—. Risking your life in the war would have been a crime.  
The war. Ukraine had gained independence from the Russian Empire in the sixteenth century thanks to an ingenious trick of Prince Kostyantyn Bocharov II, the ancestor he was named after. They had been conquered again before WWI and only recently had they won the war against Russia, again for their independence. The war that had begun just five years ago.  
—You fought in the war —Kostya said, realizing.  
—Yes, Your Highness, I did —she said—. From beginning to end.  
—And you survived.  
—And I survived. I saw many friends die, others were “only” seriously injured. I was lucky I wasn’t; nothing even touched me... until now.  
—And what will you do after this medal?  
—My commanding officer has recommended that I switch to intelligence or law enforcement— she said, shrugging—. Maybe I'll stay in the army, as an instructor. If I am honest, Your Highness, I don’t know yet.  
—Kostyantyn! —he heard his mother call him.  
—I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I must go —he apologized—. It has been a pleasure and an honor to chat with you.  
—The honor has been mine, Your Highness.  
They shook hands. Kostya thought that this was the last time he would see Lieutenant Voronenko, but it wasn’t.


	2. Bodyguard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kostya finds out he has a new bodyguard and has lunch with his friend, Artem.

The next morning, Kostya got up before Olga woke him up. Maybe it was because he had met her, but Lieutenant Voronenko had appeared nude again in his bed, this time leaning on his chest and smiling at him. And Kostya had woken up with an important erection.  
While he was relieving himself under the shower he kept repeating that it was completely normal, that the lieutenant was a very attractive woman and he was a healthy young man of only twenty-one years old.  
He came out of the shower calmer, ready to face the day. Someone had brought him breakfast, so he had breakfast alone, still wearing his bathrobe. There was a knock at the door and Olga leaned in.  
—Are you still like that? —she said, desperate— The Queen wants to see you in her office, Your Highness.  
—I'm going.  
—But she wants to see you right now! —Olga protested.  
—Okay, let's go.  
He strode out of the room, with Olga on his heels.  
—Please, Your Highness, tell me that at least you are wearing underwear!  
—Of course I am wearing underwear! —he lied— Who do you think I am?  
—Your mother's son.  
They had reached the office door. Kostya suddenly stopped and poor Olga almost crashed into him.  
—Announce me, come on —he ordered impatiently, gesturing at the door.  
—Are you sure you don’t...? —Olga began. He glared at her, she sighed—Okay, but don’t say I have not tried to dissuade you.  
Olga knocked on the door of the office and leaned in.  
—Your Majesty, Prince Kostyantyn has arrived.  
—Thank you, tell him to come in —he heard his mother say, from inside.  
He smiled and winked at Olga before entering the office as if he were dressed in the best suit in the world and not with a bathrobe and plush slippers. He froze when he saw that his mother was not alone: Lieutenant Voronenko was with her. He swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable.  
—Well, I must have taken you out of the shower —commented the Queen, refusing to make the situation a drama.  
—Yes, mother.  
—You could have dressed —replied his mother.  
—I did not want to make you wait, mother. Lieutenant Voronenko —Kostya greeted her by tilting his head slightly.  
—Your Highness —she answered, nodding in the same way and trying unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.  
—Lieutenant Voronenko joins our Royal Guard as of today as your personal bodyguard —announced the Queen.  
—I already have several bodyguards, mother —he said, surprised.  
—And you're always complaining that you cannot go anywhere —she reminded him—. Lieutenant Voronenko will make everything easier.  
—Are you going to let the rest go, mother?  
—Of course not; you will still have three bodyguards, but now the other two will follow you at a distance, in support of the lieutenant.  
—Yes, mother —answered Kostya—. I am meeting with Artem for lunch, so you will have to coordinate with the rest of my bodyguards, Lieutenant—he added, addressing his new bodyguard.  
—Yes, Your Highness.  
Kostya left and Nadezhda prepared to leave as well, but the Queen stopped her.  
—Lieutenant, wait.  
—Yes, Your Majesty?  
—House Bocharov has ruled this country since we gained independence from the Russian Empire and survived in exile until we have been able to return—said the Queen—. We will continue to lead this country for another four centuries, at least, and I will not let anyone take that away from my family, is that clear?  
—I'm afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Your Majesty.  
The Queen got up. She was not much taller than Nadezhda, but she imposed so much that for a moment she looked like a giant.  
—My son is out of your reach —she said bluntly—. If I have to imprison you, exile you or order you to be executed to prevent him from renouncing to his right to the throne for you, I will do it in the blink of an eye, understood?  
—Yes, your Majesty. It would be very unprofessional for me to harbor that kind of feelings for him.  
—All right. See to it he does not fall in love with you either.  
—It’s very unlikely that he will, Your Majesty —she replied harshly—. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to prepare for the job.  
The Queen dismissed her with a gesture.  
Well, who could love her? After the war, there was hardly any person left: she was only a soldier, she lived by and for combat, and there was no more. Helping the civilians in the affected areas after the capitulation of Moscow had helped, but then that curse had hit her and everything had started all over again.  
—Perpetual sorrow... —she sighed— Smile, Nadia, smile.  
A blue spark escaped from the collar of her jacket.

Kostya and his best friend, Artem, met to have lunch at Kostya's favorite restaurant in Odessa. Nadia was sitting with the other bodyguards a couple of tables away.  
—So that's your new bodyguard —said Artem. Kostya nodded without stopping looking at her—. She seems competent.  
—Yes.  
—And it’s pretty obvious that she comes from the army—added Artem.  
—Is it?  
—Well, look how she's dressed: navy blue pantsuit, white blouse and a low bun. Oh, and the horrible shoes, that's very Army.  
—I'm pretty sure my mother gave her those clothes —Kostya replied, amused.  
—Sure she did. Hey, do you remember Eliot from boarding school?  
—I remember.  
Eliot was one of the three boys with whom he had shared a dorm at boarding school in Paris. He was very cheerful and extravagant, very French.  
—My father told me that his father is going to be the new French ambassador in our country.  
Artem's father was the Minister of Foreign Affairs and he learned about those things well in advance.  
—It will be nice to see him again...  
—You seem distracted, Kostya, is something wrong? —Artem asked, worried.  
—No, it's nothing.  
—I don’t believe you. We’ve known each other since we were children and I know when something happens to you.  
—Have you ever wondered how your life would have been if you had been born in other circumstances? —Kostya said, his gaze lost in the distance.  
—Not really.  
—Lieutenant! —he called—. Come here, please.  
—Is something wrong, Your Highness? —she asked, approaching.  
—Sit down with us and tell us why you enlisted in the army, please —Kostya asked.  
—They have a good program of grants for higher education —she said, still standing—. Since I am an orphan and my parents did not leave me much, I thought that if I wanted to pursue my higher studies in magic, enlisting would be my best option.  
—And what happened next? —Artem asked.  
—The war broke out. Several of my instructors were Russian and I had to face them in battle.  
—Thank you, Lieutenant —Kostya said—. You can go back to enjoy your meal.  
—It is always a pleasure to resolve any doubts, Your Highness —she replied, withdrawing.  
—You see what I mean? —Kostya said— If we had been born in her place, maybe we would not even have survived.  
—I don’t understand what this is all about, Kostya.  
—I spent the war in Paris, safe, while I was old enough to fight, at least in the last three years —he said—. I want to do something for the country that will be given to me, for its people. I want to improve their lives.  
—Sometimes I think you're too good for this world, Kostya.  
—Is not that what a ruler is supposed to want? —he wondered.  
—Yes, of course —replied Artem—. But you really mean it.  
He returned to the palace alone, or at least, as alone as can be someone accompanied by three bodyguards. Many things had changed since that morning. Even he had changed a little.  
—Nadia, walk with me.  
—Yes, Your Highness.  
The breeze ruffled her hair, bringing the smell of salt from the Black Sea.  
—I love Odessa—said Kostya—. When I was a child, my father gave me a music box with a reproduction of the historic centre of the city. If you pressed the model, it would project some kind of hologram of it over the room. I spent hours exploring the streets.  
—It's a beautiful city —she agreed.  
—Where are you from, Nadia? —he didn’t even realize when he had begun addressing her by her first name.  
—From here, Your Highness. Born and raised in Odessa.  
—What happened to your parents? —asked Kostya.  
—They died in an accident when I was ten years old —replied Nadia.  
—I’m very sorry.  
—They’re always with me —Nadia said, smiling—. Those who love us never truly leave us, Your Highness.  
—I hope so —he replied; it was a nice idea to hang on to.  
—Have you lost someone, Your Highness? —dared to ask her.  
—My grandmother. I loved her very much. She always said that I was going to change things.  
—And you will, I'm sure.  
He didn’t know why he was talking to the lieutenant, a stranger, about his grandmother, but he felt good doing it. It was good to share his grief with her since she had shared hers with him.  
—Thank you for accepting the job —he said when they reached the door of his room.  
—It is an honor to serve my country, Your Highness —she replied, bowing—. If you need me, my room is at the end of the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is meant to be a slow burn, so bear with me.


	3. A day at the beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kostya invites some friends to go with him to the beach.

It had been two weeks since the beginning of June when the weather warmed enough to go to the beach and really bathe. The royal family had a small cove reserved for them, sheltered from the bustle of the most frequented beaches. Kostya invited some friends to go with him. Alina, from the conservatory, Eliot, whose family had just settled in Kiev and who was living in the palace as a guest, Artem, of course, and some of his classmates at the university, who Artem called “royal toadies”, but Kostya liked them, more or less.  
He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of Nadia's room. The only reason the lieutenant had a room there and not in the service area was that the type of magical door that connected their two rooms that in case of emergency could only be done in short distances and in horizontal. If it had not been for that door his mother had insisted on installing, Nadia would have had a very different room in a very different place in the palace.  
— Nadia? —he asked, calling again— Are you there?  
—Yes, Your Highness? —she answered, opening the door.  
—Let's go to the beach— said Kostya.  
—To the beach? —she repeated, confused—. I haven’t been informed.  
—I'm informing you now— he replied, smiling—. Come on, put on something suitable, I'll wait for you in the hall in fifteen minutes.  
—Something suitable, Your Highness? —she asked, more confused.  
—Yes, of course, you wouldn’t think to go with the pantsuit, would you? —he said.  
—No, Your Highness —she said. The truth is that she had planned to go with her usual uniform.  
—And bring your swimming gear—Kostya added, leaving before she could object.  
He met the others in the lobby. All were dressed similarly, with light summer clothing, sunglasses, and beach sandals or slippers; all very expensive, design, but simple. Kostya thought that she would not show up when the fifteen minutes were over, but just as he was about to tell the others that it was time to leave, Nadia appeared at the top of the stairs.  
He watched her go down the stairs at full speed: she had put on a light blue sun dress, Roman sandals, a straw hat and sunglasses; beneath the straps of her dress, a black bikini peeked out.  
—She’s hot, who is she? —asked one of the boys, Anton, with whom Kostya had shared a couple of classes.  
—My bodyguard — he replied tersely.  
—I'm sorry, Your Highness, I had to borrow a swimsuit —she said when she reached his side.  
—You’re lucky you've arrived on time because we were going to leave without you—he joked.  
A driver took them to the cove in a minivan. While Nadia helped the driver to get their stuff out the minivan, Kostya took off his shoes and took a deep breath; he loved the smell of salt and the feel of the sand, rough and hot, under his feet.  
—Kostya! —Alina called.  
— I’m coming!  
He put his towel between Artem and Alina. Eliot was on the other side of Alina and the others surrounded them. He regretted, too late, having invited Anton and Anatoly when he saw how they shamelessly leaned towards Alina and ignored the other girl in the group, Anya.  
—Nastya and Sveta haven’t come back from Spain yet? — Alina asked.  
—No, I think they're coming back tomorrow —Artem replied.  
— How I envy them! —Alina sighed— They'll be super-tan when they come back!  
—Spain is fine, but there's nothing like the Blue Coast— said Eliot, very patriotic.  
—Anya, how was uni? — Kostya asked, in an attempt to include the shy girl in the conversation.  
— Oh! Well, pretty good—the girl replied, blushing—. My father is still not happy with my mechanic’s grade, but I really think that a B+ is quite good.  
—Anya's father is an army aerospace engineer— Kostya informed the others.  
— He wants me to follow in his footsteps, but I do not know if I'll be good enough...  
—Nonsense, of course you will be—said Alina.  
—Your bodyguard is from the army, right? Maybe he's flown in one of Anya's father's planes—said Eliot.  
—Probably— admitted Kostya.  
—She's very muscular, isn’t she? —Anton said, redirecting the conversation; Kostya raised an eyebrow, annoyed.  
They looked at her; Lieutenant Voronenko had taken a book out of her beach bag and was reading (or pretending to read) lying on her towel. Certainly, her arms and legs showed a firmness and muscular density that was not found in normal girls, only in athletes or, as in her case, in a soldier.  
— She’s a little intimidating—commented Anatoly.  
— I pity the fool who tries to have sex with her! —laughed Anton. Anatoly high-fived him.  
—Do not talk about her like that— Kostya admonished.  
— It was just a joke! —Anton said, trying to defend himself.  
—Never talk about her like that again— he repeated sharply—. None of you. She is not here for you to look at her, but to protect us. She is doing her job and she deserves our respect.  
—Well said— said Alina—. And now, if you have finished, are we going to the water or not?  
They went for a swim, but mostly to splash around and play dumb. Nadia watched them carefully from some rocks on the shore, prepared to intervene if necessary.  
—What are those two up to? —Artem whispered, pointing at Anton and Anatoly, who stood aside, whispering. A few steps away, Anya and Eliot splashed each other and laughed, oblivious to everything.  
—No idea— Kostya replied, shrugging.  
—Really, I don’t know why you invited them— Alina interjected.  
—I begin to think that I don’t know either— he murmured.  
At that moment, something dragged him down. He struggled to return to the surface, but the whirlpool, for that was it, kept him submerged. He thought he was going to drown... until a couple of hands grabbed him and pulled him out. He gasped, coughing up salt water. Nadia had taken him out, and she helped him back to the towel, followed by the others. He didn’t see it, but his friends could not help but notice how the lieutenant's scars lit up intensely.  
—Are you all right, Your Highness? —Kostya nodded, slightly dizzy—. You! —she yelled, furious, turning to Anton—Knucklehead! What the hell do you think you’re doing?  
—How dare you? —Anton recoiled, intimidated, and even if he was a head taller than the lieutenant— I'm a friend of the prince!  
—I don’t care who you think you are, I should punch your face. Don’t think I don’t know what you've done.  
—I don’t know what you're talking about! — Anton took a step back. The lights on Nadia's back began to blink furiously—. Kostyantyn, you should tell your bodyguard that...  
—I'm not finished with you— she interrupted him—. If you put the prince's life in jeopardy again for a joke, I'll sneak into your house and turn you into a cockroach in your sleep—she threatened—. Let's see what your limited capacities for water magic are useful for, then.  
—Did you do that? —Kostya said— Have you caused the whirlpool? Why?  
Anton did not answer, unable to meet his eyes. His face turned red, and then Kostya understood.  
—I can get the answer out of him, Your Highness, if you wish—Nadia said, in a bellicose tone—. Just give me the order.  
—No, I know why he did it —he replied somberly—. You are officially banished from my circle of friends. Do not ever talk to me again, or any of my friends. Get him out of here, Lieutenant—he ordered, turning around.  
—With pleasure, Your Highness —she replied, moving toward Anton—. Take your stuff and think of home —she ordered.  
While Nadia sent Anton home through a portal, Kostya faced Anatoly, who seemed not to know where to hide.  
— Did you know that? —he asked.  
—He said he was going to create a jet that would hit you in the face, nothing more!  
—Dude, what a horrible poker face you have! —Artem was scandalized—You knew what he was going to do!  
—It's not his fault, he's weak in character —Kostya said. Anatoly looked very embarrassed—. You can stay, but after today don’t talk to me again.  
They went back to sit on the towels. Anatoly picked up his things and left after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence.  
—Why did he do it? —Alina asked.  
—He wanted to see the lieutenant in a bikini. I guess he thought that if it seemed that my life was in danger, she would come to save me.  
—Well, he almost drowns you! —Eliot exclaimed in indignation.  
—By the way, what's wrong with her back? —Alina asked.  
—Scars of war —he replied, without going into details. It was not for him to tell that story.  
— Did she fight in the war? —Eliot repeated— Wow!  
—But she seems very young —Alina objected—. How old is she?  
— Twenty-five, I think.  
— Is she our age? It seems almost impossible —commented Artem.  
— What do you mean? —Eliot asked.  
— Have you seen her gaze? It's like she’s forty —responded Artem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anton had it coming, don't you think?


	4. Summer Solstice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The celebration of Ivana Kupala is comming and Kostya is very excited for it. The only problem is whose flower garland is he going to pick?

Kostya was very excited about the summer solstice dance. He had not celebrated Ivana Kupala properly since he was a child. On a memorable occasion, a spark had caught one of the rosebushes surrounding his house in Paris, burning it completely before they could put out the fire; and on another, the wagon wheel that had been lit to symbolize the sun, had fled down the hill, rolling without control and ended up crashing into a building.  
The last special solstice for him had been when he was fifteen years old, when he had received his first kiss on the lips from the cook's daughter, a vivacious redheaded French girl he had never seen again; Kostya suspected that his mother had something to do with it.  
—I see you are very upbeat this morning, Your Highness—said Lieutenant Voronenko as they left the palace to go shopping.  
— Only three days until Ivana Kupala, Nadia! —he replied.  
—It's been a long time since I celebrated it properly— she commented.  
—Well, that makes two of us. Father will come back tonight, so he will be able to preside over the celebrations, and there will be live music, and garlands at the fountain and bonfires and a search for the fern flower, and...! Is something wrong, Nadia?  
— No, Your Highness.  
The last time Nadia had celebrated Ivana Kupala, a fighter pilot named Lev picked up her garland. They kissed and he told her that she was the prettiest woman he ever met. Only six months later, his plane was swept from the sky by a propelled grenade; he didn’t survive. A spark escaped Nadia's neck, wandering like a lost firefly before it died out.  
—I've seen that before— Kostya said—. The lights on your back ... sparking.  
—It's because the kind of curse that hit me, Your Highness. Certain feelings make sparks jump like a bonfire that has been thrown more wood.  
— What feelings?  
—Sadness, Your Highness.  
—Wow, that's... horrible.  
—It could have been worse. But I appreciate your compassion, Your Highness.  
—You do not need my compassion— he replied.  
— I don’t? Then what do I need?  
—You need friends, people who support you— he said—. I like to think we're friends—he added after a pause.  
—Thanks, Your Highness, but we can’t be friends.  
— Why?  
There was a pause during which Nadia considered telling her that the Queen had forbidden it, but she decided against it.  
—Because in order to be friends, we would have to be equals and evidently, you are above me— she said.  
—I don’t agree with that.  
—As you wish, Your Highness.  
That phrase, which he had heard so often since he had memory and to which he had never paid attention before, it angered him to hear it in her voice.  
— Don’t say that, damn it! —he exclaimed—. Don’t agree with me when it is clear that you don’t.  
For a moment, Nadia was surprised at his outburst, but did not respond, but merely smiled. That made Kostya even angrier.  
— What? You think I'm a kid, right? Is that it?  
—Your words, Your Highness, not mine.  
—I order you to tell me what you're thinking—he generally did not like to use that phrase, he had always thought it was very presumptuous, but he was not thinking straight.  
—I was thinking you're cute when you get angry.  
His anger passed instantly; she thought he was cute, somehow considered him to be pleasing to the eye. Even maybe attractive.  
—Then I'll have to get angry more often —he said, sketching what he hoped was a mysterious and suggestive smile.  
Nadia frowned and another spark escaped her skin. Kostya regretted saying it instantly.  
—I'm sorry, I did not want...  
—It’s alright, Your Highness— she interrupted harshly.  
They didn’t speak again all day and Kostya felt like an idiot. When he got home with the shopping and after dinner, he called his friends to stay, although only the real ones that time. First it was with Alina, Nastya and Sveta. He invited Artem and Eliot to come over a little later; there was a matter he had to discuss with the girls in private.

What most exasperated him about that celebration of Ivana Kupala in particular was that he was expected to choose well when it came to picking up a garland. Everyone cheated and agreed who would whose garland, but he was supposed to be above those things. As if destiny were to guide him to choose!  
The girl to who it belonged would be his date for the night and tradition dictated that he had to kiss her. And if he had to kiss someone and it couldn’t be who he wanted, then it was better that he go to one of his friends, right?  
—I'm sorry, Kostya, I already have a date— Sveta said when she commented.  
—So do I— Nastya added.  
— Who? —he wanted to know.  
—Eliot— said Sveta.  
—Artem— Nastya replied.  
—Alina, you are my only hope. Please— he pleaded.  
—Alright— she agreed after a pause, clearly enjoying seeing him implore. —I'll send you a picture when it’s done.

The party began in the afternoon, and included a dinner based on the type of food that fits in the palm of your hand and alcohol. The king officially began the celebration with a small speech.  
— Dear friends, I welcome you to this celebration of Ivana Kupala, the first as it is due for my family in a long time. I am very happy to be here with you tonight when we welcome the summer sun and say goodbye to spring. I also hope that tonight marks the beginning of a new era of peace and prosperity for this country. Let the party begin!  
A rocket rose from somewhere in the garden, exploding over the heads of the crowd in a blue and yellow stork that hovered over the heads of the people before disappearing. The crowd erupted in applause.  
The single women approached the fountain to leave the garlands of flowers lit with candles. The men had to wait for the king to light the burning wheel to pick up a garland.  
Alina's was made of ferns, vincas and tagetes, with a blue candle. She smiled at him as she took the crown, kissed him on the cheek and walked to the bonfires together, where people jumped, trying to invoke good luck.  
—I think you've missed an opportunity to know what your destiny holds, Kostya —said Alina.  
—Fate is not going to tell me who I will love or who will love me— he replied.  
They approached the cocktail table. Nadia was there, in her dress uniform, light blue and black. She passed them a couple of glasses after carefully inspecting them.  
— Here they are. The canapés are clean, and also the tartlets and sochniki. I have to examine the rest, but I'm sure there will be no problems.  
—Thank you, lieutenant.  
—It's always a pleasure, Your Highness— she said, bowing slightly—. I really like your dress, Miss Pash—she added, smiling at Alina.  
—Thank you!  
They drank the champagne in silence, simply enjoying each other's company. Shortly after, they were joined by Nastya, Artem, Sveta and Eliot, so the three couples went dancing to the dance floor. A group of musicians dressed in traditional clothes played melodies typical to the celebration. It was a bit strange to dance them dressed in haute couture, but Kostya was having fun.  
Near midnight, thunder sounded and the king announced that the search for the fern flower had begun in the palace garden. It was one of the activities of the party that Kostya liked the most. He smiled at Alina, and tried pulling her into the labyrinth, but she denied, laughing.  
—I'm wearing stiletto heels, I'm not going to run on the grass, I would sink— she said.  
—As you like.  
As soon as he entered the hedge maze (magically enlarged for the occasion), Nadia appeared behind him.  
—I'm supposed to look for it alone— he teased.  
—I'm not here to help you, Your Highness. I’m just doing my usual job.  
—Whatever you say. Let's go!  
Most people had some degree of magical abilities, and although Kostya had never stopped to think about his own, but the truth was that his instinct was too fine-tuned not to be the product of magic. He hardly hesitated; there was something that compelled him to take one path or another, and he found the flower very quickly.  
— Nadia, look!  
—Take it, Your Highness, it's yours— she replied, smiling.  
He reached out, but stopped. He was supposed to make a wish, but what he should wish for? Something for him? Something for his country? For his family?  
—Is something wrong, Your Highness? —Nadia asked, frowning, worried.  
—No, I ... I don’t know what to wish for— he admitted.  
—Sister Maria, from the orphanage, used to say that there are three fundamental things in life: health, money and love— said Nadia—. Think of what you lack and wish for it.  
—I don’t want to be selfish.  
—World peace is something beyond the reach of the flower, Your Highness— Nadia joked.  
—Yes, you're right.  
So Kostya wished for love. He wished he could fall in love freely and wished that the person he fell in love with would love him too. There was another thunder, and the flower in his hand suddenly withered.  
—It's done, Your Highness— Nadia told him—. Whatever you have wished, the flower will fulfill it.  
—Let’s go back, there's still a big part of the celebration coming.  
More jumping around bonfires, and then honoring their dead loved ones by going to the river and putting hundreds of wreaths in the water, to bring their thoughts and good wishes to the next life. Just before dawn, there was a fireworks display. Kostya sat with Alina on one of the blankets that the servants had installed in the garden while they were in the river.  
—Thank you for being my date tonight ... — he said to Alina.  
—It’s nothing, but whatever you want to say, let it go.  
—I ... I'm not in love with you, you know, right?  
—Right. I'm not in love with you either—said Alina—. But you're supposed to kiss me before the night is over, or you won’t have love for a whole year.  
So Kostya closed his eyes and kissed her.  
—Oh, Nadia ... —he sighed.  
— You called me Nadia? —Laughed Alina— Who is Nadia?  
—Nobody— he replied, blushing; but he couldn’t help looking for the lieutenant.  
— It's her! — Alina exclaimed, amused— It’s your bodyguard!  
— Lower your voice! — Kostya whispered, making frantic gestures with his hands — Do you want everyone to know or what?  
—So you like her— Alina said, relishing in having made him admit it. Kostya nodded, although it was not necessary—. You should go for it. She is beautiful and has already sworn eternal loyalty...  
—I don’t think her oath refers to that.  
—No, of course, I did not mean that— Alina clarified—. I'm just saying that she’s already faithful in a sense. It may be more—he added.  
—My mother would kill her— Kostya said somberly—. Literally.  
—Only if she found out. And you are her son; don’t you think that if you asked her, she would accept whoever you love?  
—Maybe.  
—Didn’t your ancestor marry a commoner? —Alina recalled, referring to Kostyantyn II.  
—No, not really. He cheated and named her father a Count before marrying her.  
—Well, you know what to do.  
Then the fireworks started and they had no chance to continue talking.  
Kostya had never seen such ostentatious and magnificent fireworks in his life before. Not even in Paris, the New Year's fireworks never reached such majesty. The artificers had worked hard that year.  
It started with a silhouette of the country, with the most important cities shining like little jewels. That gave way to some important historical figures, including their ancestor, while the national anthem played. After the last portrait vanished in a shower of sparks, the fires became more abstract, but just as impressive. The crowd, inside and outside the gardens, applauded and burst into exclamations of admiration and amazement.  
When it was over, Kostya was ready to go to bed. He said goodbye to his friends and went to his room.  
—Good night, Nadia, and happy Ivana Kupala— he wished his bodyguard.  
—You too, Your Highness— she replied, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Food, music, fireworks... and a magic flower that grants wishes! What a party, huh?


End file.
